Choices
by ConstructiveRomance
Summary: Ron remembered tumbling, desperately trying to grasp onto something and then he was awake. Falling through the veil and ending up in another world - that was standard, right? Good, old, quiet, normal post-war life. He should have known being best friends with Harry bloody Potter made that far-fetched.
1. Chapter 1

**Choices**

_Chapter One: The Veil_

Making the same mistakes twice was a tell-tale sign of stupidity, Hermione had once thrown at him during a lecture. If that were true, Ron was forced to now accept the three of them were as stupid as they come.

He wasn't even sure why he agreed to it, no part of him wanted to even be in the Ministry, much less breaking into a department that held only their deepest regrets and nightmares. He and Hermione were a right pair though, never able to turn down their hero friend when the time struck. That said, Ron wasn't sure it was purely for Harry they impulsively hopped aboard his crazed plans each time; trouble always found them because they looked for it a little. The drama and secrecy thrilled him, he was old enough now to admit that.

This was going a bit far. They couldn't even all fit into the invisibility cloak any more, so while Hermione and Harry cozied up hidden from view, he was the idiot who had to bribe a witch from the cleaning department to show him the area. Honestly, he couldn't believe it was so simple either.

He supposed no one ever expected anything of the cleaning crew. To be fair, all Ron did was flirt a little, complain about being a hero and wanting some '_much needed closure over the harrowing battle in the department of mysteries.' _

Bloody hell, if 14 year old Ron knew how women would one day swoon over him, he wouldn't have been nearly as much of a git.

"I could get into so much trouble for this," She sighed, looking up at him through long lashes, "but I just can't stand to see a soul in such torment."

Who talked like that? Ron, bemused, patted her arm, "And know that this soul appreciates that just _so much._" Uh-oh, the sincerity was getting hard to fake. Ron panicked, _quick, calm her suspicions, _"I'm so nervous confronting my painful past like this."

Her look of suspicion melted into sympathy and he had the heart to feel guilty for taking advantage of a good person, "Well, hush up, and I'll help you out. You can take me to dinner sometime to pay me back."

That had not been part of the plan. Ron felt an unseen body nudge him and rolled his eyes - guess he was taking one for the team again. "Sure," it was half-hearted and he hoped she didn't hear it in his tone.

When they entered the department of mysteries, he instinctively felt a tremble of fear run through him. This place had haunted him nightly in the summer of fifth year. It was a reliable source of torment for both of his best friends, too. Harry and his bloody dreams - here they were again, half-cocked, no idea what they were doing, leaping into the unknown on nothing but a figment of their friends imagination. They would deserve to be called stupid, and that included Hermione, brightest-witch-of-her-age-ms-know-it-all-brainy-pants.

One would have expected, trusted even, that once the war was over, the Trio would settle down and enjoy a quiet, normal life. No such luck. It had been five years since the war ended and for the last few months Harry had been having a dream every night about this place.

There was only so long he and Hermione could listen before they decided to investigate. Ron certainly didn't expect them to find anything Harry was looking for, and it might cost them their jobs, but Ron didn't work at the Ministry so that was out of his hands. He suspected Hermione didn't believe they'd find anything either so her compliance in this plan was puzzling, but Ron knew better than to question her decisions when it came to Harry. Or ever, really.

Before he could even utter thanks to the unnamed witch, Hermione tore off the cloak and stunned her. Ron gaped, "Brilliant, but scary."

Hermione shrugged, looking only a little perturbed by the actions. Reluctantly, she spoke, "Someone will probably need to… _modify…_ her memory a little."

Both men immediately stared at her, and she sighed deeply, "Fine, I suppose I'm the memory charm expert." The admission made him uneasy, remembering all too well the Trio's trip to Australia to restore her parents memories. Hermione hadn't really been the same since, a fact that he knew kept Harry awake at night. Besides these dreams, of course, he thought with a tinge of exasperation.

"It's okay, we'll have loads of time to practice memory charms when you two are jobless bums," He quipped, glancing around the department. The cleaning girl had sworn there would be no one about at this time, it was her rota to clean the area, but he was sceptical of her credentials.

"Shut up, Ron," Harry replied swiftly, with no malice, "Chosen one, remember? I'll talk our way around it if needs be." His tone was mocking, but Ron suspected there was some truth in it.

"Overwhelming confidence in this," Hermione said dryly, now flanking Harry with her wand held to her side. They couldn't quite lose the vigilance the war had given them, though time had tried to heal almost everything else. "Harry, please tell me you at least know where you're going?"

He halted, putting one finger to his head and closing his eyes - and Merlin, was he _humming? _"Just waiting on my psychic powers to kick in.."

Ron couldn't help himself and he let out a vivacious, loud laugh. Hermione swiftly elbowed Harry and gave Ron a sharp look, "_Sorry, _I thought maybe we'd have something more specific than 'anywhere in the whole department',"

Harry's grin faltered, and dread quickly filled Ron. That look was never good. He looked guilty, abashed, reluctant. Something bad was coming. A quick glance at Hermione confirmed that she was suspecting the same thing… Shit, he thought. If Hermione didn't know what was coming it was bad. Ever since they had gotten together, Harry and Hermione had become even more annoyingly adept at reading each others mind. Mental, the both of them.

"Well, see, the thing is," Harry stumbled over his words, eyes roaming around the long hallway of the department. "It's - it's mostly the veil…"

"The veil." Ron responded, flatly, already tired.

"Harry," he couldn't help but flinch - and saw Harry do the same - at the hurt in Hermione's tone, "Why didn't you tell me?"

The man opened his mouth to respond, but Ron was done. They were here now, may as well give some closure to Harry's tormented psyche. "You lovebirds can discuss this later, yeah? We're currently in the middle of a 'situation' and to be honest, I'd like to get this over with. C'mon, we can use the scar to sweet talk anyone we come across."

"You know I hate it when you call me the scar," Harry grumbled as he took point.

Hermione came up on his left side, wand still hanging tightly in her hand, "You have no grounds for complaints tonight, I think Ron should be able to call you what he wants."

"Finally, I've been waiting years to use Pothead."

"_Ronald."_

As they approached the room, Ron wondered if it was still as he pictured in his mind. It was his first real test as a duelist, a fighter and soldier. Hermione had once described it as the night they all lost the innocence taken from Harry in fourth year. While he thought that was a bit extreme, Ron had to admit that the battle of the department of mysteries held a place of horror that many other battles took second string to.

Harry slowed his pace and swallowed, "Now or never, I guess."

He was about to stride forward, when Hermione placed a hand on his, "Hang on, let's take some precaution." Hesitating for just a minute, she threw the cloak over her boyfriend. "Why don't you take this with Ron and go ahead?"

There was a short silence in which he stared at her, causing Ron increasing discomfort. Another one of their silly wordless conversations. "Mate, out with it already, not all of us can read your mind."

"Ron, I think you should keep watch and Hermione should come with me." He said finally, looking down at the cloak. Ron almost laughed; had Harry been concerned about his reaction?

"Absolutely fine. You guys enjoy the walk down thriller lane," He said, pushing them toward the door.

Hermione was frowning, "If you're sure, Ron, we can toss a coin or something -"

"Nope, it's good, go." After a bit more cajoling, the two left him in the hallway and he relaxed. Tossing his wand from one hand to the other, Ron fought the urge to whistle and fill the silence. There were some terrible rumours about this place that persisted among his peers no matter what his age was. The tale changed somewhat as he got older, but the message remained the same: the Department of Mysteries was a fucked up place.

When he was younger, he very temporarily harboured the wish to become an Unspeakable - it seemed unspeakably cool. Once he discovered you could never reveal to anyone you were an unspeakable, it was dropped immediately.

He sighed, wishing he had worn a watch. Ron had no idea of the time and the spell Hermione showed him multiple times was once again lost on him.

Was that a cough he heard?

Suddenly, he began to hear the screaming, and Ron started backing up to the door. Reluctantly, he walked backwards through the door his friends had disappeared into. Something was wrong.

Tentatively, he called out, "Harry? Hermione? We may have a problem." The screaming was getting louder and he turned and ran further into the room, finally spotting his friends standing near the veil, examining it.

In his haste to reach them, Ron picked up the pace but he had never been the most athletic of people. As he reached them, he stumbled over the uneven ground in the room, realising only by the utter horror dawning on his friends faces that he was stumbling into something much worse than the last time he had been here.

Two deafening screams joined the others, his name clear on their lips, as Ron slipped through the veil, seeped and consumed immediately by the darkness it brought.

* * *

A/N: Thanks for reading! I would truly appreciate reviews.

Obviously, the veil is a bit different in this fic so please I won't be sticking dead to canon on it. I've finished this fic, it's around 17k words but I haven't decided how I'll chapter it yet. I'll likely update a couple of times a week, maybe tomorrow or Monday for chapter two.

Rated T as I don't think it's overly explicit except the language, but let me know if you think it should be M.

It will be HHR, but very much as a side pairing, romance is not a focal point. Added them as pairing to the story description so no one would come expecting RHr etc. This follows canon up the end of the seventh book, excluding the epilogue.

Thanks again!

CR.


	2. Chapter 2

**Choices**

_Chapter Two: The Statue_

The blinding pain in his head was the first thing Ron noticed as he opened his eyes, thankful for the dark hue in the room. He held in the groan that was on his lips, shifting on the ground to ease the discomfort. He waited a beat, trying to place what he was doing and where he was.

Suddenly, the last few moments rushed back to him and he jumped up. He scrambled to find his wand, whipping it out. With a quick lumos, Ron inspected his surroundings. The voices of the veil behind him caused him to turn, and he was swiftly reminded of why they went to the department of mysteries in the first place.

Why on earth was he _here _though? He could have sworn he fell through the veil. Did he just pop out the other side? Ron walked around, trying to place his memories and reconstruct the scene. Most importantly, had his two arsehole friends bailed the moment he fell through? Ron frowned. If he were six years younger, he may have believed that, but the insecurities that once buried themselves in Ron were no longer growing. He knew his best mates and there was no way they would react that apathetically to him falling through the veil.

Maybe he had fallen out the other side, untouched, and they went to find help? It seemed unlikely.

Ron sighed. Either way, the best route he could take now was the one out. He would find his friends and complain at a later stage. This would give him mileage for a good year anyway, perhaps even for life if he could establish what exactly happened.

The things a bloke did when he was friends with Harry Potter.

Creeping along the corridor, Ron noticed that there was something distinctly different about the place. He allowed himself to observe his surroundings more closely, noticing the cobwebs netted at every corner and falling brokenly at each door. There was a coat of dust that aged all surfaces, and it didn't help the floors looked like they hadn't been washed in some time. A glance behind confirmed that his steps left faint prints with each move.

This was definitely different. There were no screams, and in fact, there was no noise at all. Ron could hear his own shallow breathing, and was now startled to notice he could see it too with how cold the room was. The adrenaline had kept him warm thus far, but he said a quick heating charm to make sure it stayed that way.

His heart was racing, his palms sweaty, as Ron contemplated the meaning of this. Perhaps he had been unconscious for quite some time; could he be waking up to a world that had lived twenty years without him? It would explain why Harry and Hermione were nowhere to be found.

Ron swallowed, but it didn't help alleviate the dryness in his mouth or sudden soreness in his throat. He needed to get out of here.

He ran forward, determined to exit the department unscathed. This was the last time he was taking part in these schemes - once and for all. Seriously. Honestly. Only schemes that are level one mischief from now on… level two if it's something cool. Maybe he would have to decide it on a case by case basis.

Finally, Ron reached the hallway that led to the auror department and released a long breath he had been holding in. His relief was short-lived.

In the middle of the hall, not twenty feet from him, stood a golden statue and with a surprising amount of revulsion Ron met the eyes that were a mirror of his own. "Bloody hell."

He stood for several minutes, gaping like some fish, at the replica of him that was erected seemingly casually in the middle of a hallway. It was the pose that struck Ron; he had his arms crossed, chin raised and a smirk across his face. He hardly recognised himself, the expression was so different to what he usually aimed for.

There were various posters and photos along the walls that eventually tore his attention away, the array of colours and messages mixed as well as confusing. He was drawn to one poster in particular that had a cartoon version of himself brandishing a wand with the caption 'be like the winning Weasley and join us'. Had he been gone for a couple of years, and they used it as some sort of recruitment tool?

One of the pitfalls, rather than perks, of working here, Ron would have thought. Poor message to try convince people to work here because a once famous guy had died. It was likely they thought he was dead. Squinting between the poster and the statue, he realised that he didn't look much older in either of them. Even the attire didn't seem aged.

Although, if they wanted to preserve the way he looked when he had died, it made sense.

"Weasley," A voice hissed, causing him to jump a little. "Where the fuck have you been?"

Ron turned and before he could stop himself, his eyes widened. This was not the Colin Creevey that lived in his memory - in fact, the image of Colin that lingered in his mind wasn't living at all. His head span as the implications of his became clear; was Ron in heaven? Was this some sort of twisted after life? Words failed him, he couldn't muster the coherence to respond.

He looked so different. Blond hair fell to the man's shoulders, almost as if were aiming for a Lucius Malfoy look in a few years. He was tall, skinny, but there was no shred of the innocence or naivety that the Colin he knew had in bounds. His gaze was focused, analytical, and Ron got the feeling that the other man would have his wand out in seconds if threatened.

He sighed impatiently, "Well? Wait, what are you wearing? What happened to you?"

"Er, I don't know," He managed.

To Ron's surprise, Colin let out a rueful snicker, "Another late one with a couple of girls? You're a dog, Weasley."

He tried his best to stop the blush that bloomed immediately, but knew he failed spectacularly as he felt the heat burn, "Piss off."

That seemed to be the appropriate response, the younger man laughed and started walking off. "Come on, I don't have all day. That hearing is at 5 and you have to handle a few items first. I'm not your goddamn secretary."

"You sure complain like it." Ron responded, before he could stop himself.

"Anyone ever tell you you're an asshole, Weasley?"

He kept up his pace with the blond, and practiced the expression he had seen on the statue, "Everyday."

Ron had to eventually force himself to look at the ground as they walked because every little thing he saw inspired a gasp of awe or fear. The Ministry was changed; they had new departments written up on the maps - words like detention centre and retraining program glared out at him - there were posters that looked like they were watching you specifically on each wall they passed. There were posters of people he didn't recognise, but more of those that did.

Himself, Harry and Hermione were proudly displayed on quite a few. They mostly seemed to be in school in the posters which confused him to no end. Could he be in an alternate universe where they were dead?

No, it was clear Colin knew him and he was supposed to be somewhere.

Colin pulled him into a lift then and pressed a button for the top floor. They waited, no sounds from either of them except from the incessant tapping of the other mans foot. Ron grew irritated with the movement and glared.

For one, startling, brief moment, he saw fear pass through Colin's expression before it became neutral. "Sorry."

Apologies? This changeable behaviour was confusing. One moment he was cursing Ron, and the next he was apologising? This was going to be weird.

If he thought that was weird, it was nothing compared to the oddness he felt upon seeing a truly familiar face when Colin ushered him out of the lift. The man essentially pushed him out, muttering a quick goodbye before disappearing back into the lift.

Immediately, he was confronted by a blonde his heart ached to see. Luna. She looked different though, too different. This wasn't the ethereal dreamer he knew, that much was obvious. She was too grounded, too present and alert. Luna was dressed in dark red robes, which he thought looked bizarre against her pale skin, blonde hair and pale blue eyes.

His eyes drifted from her and realised that everyone was wearing the same robes.

"Ron," She said, smiling tightly, "Where are your robes? You know they'll be disappointed if you're disrespectful to the code again."

"The code? Oh, yes, _the code_," Ron corrected quickly. Her eyes narrowed, causing his heart to speed up. He needed a cover, "Sorry, late night, you know me… couple of girls, bit of drink, and I forget everything else."

She rolled her eyes and Ron was particularly struck by this because it was so unnatural to see on Luna, "You're a disappointment. Be more discreet next time, hmm?" She said, pointing to the ring on her left hand.

Ron gaped, looking down at his own empty finger. Luna followed his line of sight and sighed, "You took it off again? I know you keep it in your drawer. Put it and your robes on and don't be late."

"Late?"

"The hearing. At 5. Merlin, are you okay?" As if just hearing her own words, Luna paused, head tilted. He faked nonchalance as she studied him intensely, "There's something up with you. Are you an imposter?" She grabbed his hand then, roughly yanking him behind her as she marched to an office in the corner of the floor. Ron kept his eyes planted on the back of her head, not prepared to deal with any more surprises.

The office was impressive, he had to admit. Glass, and it had a great view of Wizarding Britain by the looks of things. There were a few photos along the walls, but many more awards and souvenirs.

He blinked when he noticed another person in the room, cowering under his gaze. Wait a second. Pudgy, tall, familiar… was this? Ron bent to look at him better, and realised with a pang in his chest that this was Gregory Goyle. Dressed in grey, papery looking trousers and an identically coloured papery t-shirt, Ron marvelled at how muggle the clothing seemed.

"Gregory, would you mind getting Sirius and Remus? Tell them Ronald has requested their presence immediately." Luna said, looking down at a file in her hand. She was muttering something as she read the notes and he took the minute to observe her.

He noticed now that there were smudges of blue along the side of her left hand, as if she had spilled an ink pot and rubbed her hand in it. Her hair was pulled back, loosely held in a bun at the top of her head, but many strands had escaped to obscure her vision now and again. She tucked these back behind her ear every few moments. Physically, otherwise, she seemed the same. Why did she seem so different, too? And fuck, were they _married? _To his recollection, the most they'd ever done was a sloppy kiss on a drunken dare a couple of years ago.

"Stop staring at me," She said, and put the file down on his desk, "I have a couple more experiments scheduled for his afternoon so I can't stick around."

"Experiments?" He repeated, dumbly, before he could stop it.

That was the final straw it seemed, because without another breath, her wand was out and trained on him, "Reveal yourself."

"I'm - I'm me, Luna, I swear." He said, gulping, "Can you please lower that? I don't know what's happened, maybe I drank too much and lost my memory," There was something about the spark of madness in her eyes that held him back from revealing the truth.

"Tell me something you would know."

His mind raced, memories assailing him that were altogether unhelpful. Ron couldn't even be sure that he was in the same world, that the memories he had were even real in this world. He figured the earlier the memory, the better, so he finally blurted out, "You used to pick daisies from our garden when we were kids, and taught me and Ginny how to make a crown one summer."

She faltered, her eyes softening, "I thought you had forgotten about that. You - you told me you didn't remember."

Ron shrugged, "I guess I remembered."

Luna said nothing, and then glanced downward, "Simpler times. I know the work we're doing is pivotal and of the utmost importance, but every now and again, I miss the creatures and the fields of daisies." When she looked back up, his breath caught, she looked so disarmingly similar to his own Luna.

"Me too," He whispered, meaning it.

Tears pooled in her eyes, and he felt guilty without reason. Luna put her hand on his cheek for a moment, gently holding his gaze, before her expression abruptly changed and she slapped him, "Put your ring on and don't try that shit with me again."

* * *

A/N: Thanks for reading! If you could review I would really appreciate it please.

Now, I know Luna is OOC here but it is an alternate timeline so a lot of characters will seem OOC. As you may have guessed, Ron is the main character of this.

I think I'll try update daily till it's compete, hoping it will come in at around 5 chapters.

Thanks again!

CR.


	3. Chapter 3

**Choices**

_Chapter Three: The Lost Black_

_Oh, bloody hell… oh, bloody fuck… _

Ron continued to curse himself as he frantically rooted through his desk. He slipped his ring on and magically changed into the robes hanging near the window. He paused, inhaling deeply, trying to focus his mind. The best thing to do now was gain knowledge on the situation, that was what Hermione would do.

He reached for the plaque at the front of his desk, reading the bold lettering: _Ronald Weasley - Head to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. _Ron shook his head, vision swimming until he closed his eyes for a minute. This was not real. Something was desperately wrong.

He rummaged around for another few minutes, then decided to blindly choose a file from his desk to read. This turned out to be a terrible idea as the more he read, the more nauseous he became. There was a folder filled with 'Lovegood Research' that detailed potions and spells Luna was concocting, tested on prisoners to ensure their stability and effectiveness. The conclusions of scarring, death, unimaginable pain, lost limbs and organs to the prisoners were written with a level of detachment that disheartened him.

That was not his Luna.

He couldn't let himself linger too long on the comparisons to his friends at home. Harry and Hermione were still his best mates, and he reckoned that if they could get past his disastrous relationship with Hermione and her dating Harry two years later, they could get through anything. Oh, and the war - that was pretty impressive to get through victorious. Ron wasn't quite sure what that victory looked like here.

Another folder contained files of people, some names he recognised and others he didn't. Mid flicking through, his heart nearly stopped.

_Charlie Weasley._

Gingerly opening the file, Ron scanned through the synopsis:

Name: Charles 'Charlie' Weasley.  
Birthplace: England, UK.  
Status: Pure-blood.  
Affiliation: Supremacist Sympathiser.  
Current location: Retraining program.  
Notes: _Extra attention has been paid to this candidate due to the historic allegiance and heroism of his family. Unfortunately, all attempts to reroute thought and retrain his affiliation has proved unfruitful. This included standard propaganda paired with sleep and food deprivation, carrot and stick method, as well as outright forced submission. With regret, it is my recommendation that he be moved to the obliviation retain program or a detention centre._

He blinked, eyes burning as he read the words several times. At the end, in beautifully looped letters, it was signed: _Ginevra Weasley. _

Ginevra? He wanted to laugh, his sister would hex him for calling her that.

Ron didn't want to be here any more, something was dreadfully, awfully wrong and he didn't want to learn any more. Before he could think or act any more on this, the door to his office was whipped open and he blinked three times rapidly to make sure he wasn't hallucinating. Maybe the whole thing was a hallucination, he thought hopefully.

Sirius Black stood in front him, looking nothing like he remembered. This Sirius was finely cut; groomed, broad and healthy. His hair was still slightly longer, but tucked firmly behind his ears, and his lack of facial hair showed off a much more youthful complexion than Ron would have imagined. He certainly wasn't the haggard ghost of a wizard from the Shrieking Shack. The man smirked, "I hear you're causing quite the fuss again."

Lupin strode in after him, and he looked so well that Ron wondered whether in this world there was a cure for Lycanthropy. "Ron, you know I like you, but Harry and Hermione worked hard for the code too, you can't disrespect it like this as you choose."

He frowned, what on earth was this code they kept mentioning?

"Weasley," Sirius called, more firmly this time. "Care to brief us on this morning?"

"This morning?"

"Yes," Lupin said slowly, coming a little closer, "Didn't you lead that raid in Norfolk? That was a rebel holdout for the last six months, we've been waiting too long for it."

"Right.. I don't recall that happening.."

"I heard you died on the field," Sirius said casually, seating himself on Ron's desk. He was worried now, heat creeping up his neck as his anxiety rose.

He needed to look like that statue prick in the hall. "Do I look dead to you?"

Sirius let out a barking laugh, looking back at Lupin who quirked a smile. Ron didn't know if he would ever think of the man as 'Remus'. He was sure Hermione would still call him 'professor'. Ron's panic welled again at the reminder that both these men and Colin were dead.

Luna, however, was not, he chanted to himself. That was comforting - this couldn't be limbo, right?

"Right you are, lad. Sorry, boss." He didn't sound sorry at all. "Remus, maybe you could check with Wood if the raid went alright seeing as drink has finally turned Weasley into the shit-for-brains Ms. Granger calls him?" Lupin nodded politely and left the room.

Ron sprang to attention, and he fumbled in his mind to think of how to get more information, "Ms. Granger? Bit formal.."

Sirius snorted, "Easy for you to say, last time I called her Hermione I was made work at the detention centre for a week."

"So, eh, she's sensitive about her name?"

There was a silence that Ron had grown to hate; it was the one in which people slowly began to realise he was not their Ron, "Where did you say you were this morning?"

He gulped, "Dunno, hungover.."

"Right, right. Where did you drink?"

"Three broomsticks, of course."

"Oh? Rosmerta still there, is she?"

"I know you're fond enough of the drink, Sirius, to know that she is."

"Hmm. Yes, quite, been awhile since I've frequented the place," He said, strolling towards Ron's door. He shut it swiftly, turning to look at him with a calculated gaze, "The fire that burned it down three years ago did the trick, I think."

Ron's mouth fell open, "Er, I, you see… Did I not say Leaky Cauldron? I meant, rather - I should have said -"

"You meant what you said," Sirius said simply, casting a quick muffliato around the room. Ron watched without a word as he approached each painting, picture and put a charm on them as well that covered their eyes and hearing.

He turned back to Ron then, whispering an enchantment that had them both glowing in white for a minute before it disappeared. "Am I about to spontaneously combust after that?" He joked, trying to not let his very real concern seep into his tone.

"Not yet," Sirius smirked, sitting himself down in front of the desk, "I needed us to have complete privacy. Let's be honest, you're not Ron."

"I think if you take another looksie," He said, gesturing to his face and body, "You'll see I am."

"We both know that's not true. Ronald Weasley is fantastic at occlumency, you didn't even notice I read your mind," Sirius twirled his wand, looking almost feral, "Haggard ghost? You wound me."

Well, shit.

He couldn't find words - what the hell was he supposed to say? He was truly fucked now and this was why he didn't go on missions on his own. The Trio all contributed in different ways, and on their own, well they got nowhere. That was his problem, he needed to find Harry and Hermione-

Sirius was laughing sardonically, "Harry and Hermione won't help _you. _You're not their Ron and they'll _smell _it from you. If I noticed, you think the two people who know you best won't? You're their general, they trust you the most… they'll notice."

He was casual about this, watching his wand move through his fingers, "I know who you really are, of course. The veil?"

Ron nodded, figuring Sirius saw it in his mind. "No, I didn't read it in your mind. Don't you know how Sirius Black came to be in this world? I was thought to be dead. Kidnapped and killed by Peter, that was my legacy in this world.

"Until one, unfortunate, black day, I happened to fall through a veil.."

He trailed off, eyes leaving his wand to look at Ron, "You wouldn't know anything about that now, would you?"

* * *

A/N: Bit of a short chapter today, folks, sorry about that.

Thanks for reading! If you could please review, I would appreciate it a lot.

To the guest reviewer from last chapter, have no fear, there will be zilch Ron bashing here :) Thank you so very much for your review!

Cheers,

CR.


	4. Chapter 4

**Choices**

_Chapter Four: Harry and Hermione_

It took nearly all of Ron's resolve to stay seated and in control of his emotions. His eyes burned with unshed tears as the reality of his situation finally weighed in. There was nothing he could assure himself of to make this better. He hadn't been hallucinating at all - this Sirius was the one he met in third year, the one he tried to sacrifice himself to for Harry in the Shrieking Shack.

There was the added problem that he could so fluidly read Ron's mind, and somewhere amidst the dozens of thoughts competing for attention in his brain, he wished he had learned Occlumency when he had the chance.

He eyed Sirius who stared back, his expression open and waiting. Ron didn't even know what they were waiting on. He supposed he needed to get some answers if he was going to try blending in. There was every chance he could make a life here, he even had a wife! The Ron in this world was leagues ahead.

Albeit, he apparently was not the best husband to this lovely wife, but that was the old Ron.

There was something here to be salvaged. Definitely. Didn't Sirius mention he was the general? He was head of the law department, for Merlin's sake! Ron could make change where he needed, he could help and develop this. This was good. This he could work with.

"Are you done with your panicking?" Sirius asked, sounding as if he was trying hard to not seem disinterested.

"Probably not, but we should move ahead. You've been here for nearly 10 years then?"

The older man grimaced, "Unfortunately. That said, these ten years have been a sight better than the ten before! It's no Azkaban. I'm doing good work here, supporting Harry, keeping things in line."

"But - but the real Harry needs your support way more!"

"Yes, well, I can't do anything about that, can I?" He snapped, but quickly exhaled and controlled himself again, "Sorry. I tried for so long to get back to our world. If - if I'm being entirely honest, the Harry of this world doesn't much need my help."

Ron leaned forward, unable to the excitement he felt, "So Hermione and Harry are all good?"

"Oh, yes," Sirius laughed darkly, "They're excellent. You see, they're rather different from the Harry and Hermione you knew. Ron was, too, as you may have gathered from people's reaction. The brains, Granger, the brawns, you and the leader, Harry."

"_I'm _the brawns?"

"As I said, you're their general." He stroked his light beard, "I can't pinpoint the differences exactly as I spent the better part of my first five years here trying to figure a way back…" Ron was stunned to see the unguarded sorrow in Sirius' eyes when he looked back, "I practically lived in the department of mysteries. By the time I gave up, it was too late."

His heart dropped, "Too late?"

"I'm sure you're well aware of the comparisons made between Harry and Voldemort… the emphasis Dumbledore always made on choices was not idle philosophy. Harry made a different choice here, I'll leave it at that."

"No," Ron said firmly, shaking his head, "There's no way Harry would do that and there's definitely no way me and Hermione would agree to it."

Despite himself, Ron heard her correct '_Hermione and I' _in his head and felt a sharp pang of loss. Would he ever see that Hermione again?

"I guess you're wrong," Sirius shrugged it off easily, "Hermione's parents were murdered, you were tortured for a bit in your seventh year, maybe that made an impact. Not sure where the paths diverged from our world if I'm honest. Never could get details of the Hogwarts years from the three of you. You mutually decided that if everyone lived the same code, the good code, of equality and harmony that things would be good."

"Are they?" He asked, hopefully.

"Yes and no. There's an element of autocracy and fascism that goes into making people say they believe the same things. You have to understand," he went on, eager to explain, "that they were forced to be tough to be taken seriously. Purebloods who joined Voldemort had to be taught a lesson."

It hit Ron then. "Goyle?"

Sirius nodded, appearing a bit guilty, "Yes. We have the retraining program for those that resist the code, but if even obliviation can't change their leanings they go to the detention centre. The best ones are assigned to someone in the Ministry as a slave, like Goyle."

"That's… that's terrifying." Ron sighed, wishing he had better words to express how dismayed he was at his own actions.

"Sure, but there are good things. With Goyle and the likes at our beck and call, Granger pushed through with magical creature rights particularly for house elves.. Taking into account Harry was - and still is - Minister of Magic and similarly you've been head of this department, there wasn't many able to challenge her. People who did were efficiently dealt with. They control everything. You saw Lovegood earlier, right? Her paper and the Daily Prophet are nothing but a front these days, your Hogwarts alumni are planted in both, feeding propaganda stories."

"I don't know if I want to hear any more…"

"There is good," Sirius insisted, "The advancements in spell and potions combined with equality for magical creatures brought about a cure for Lycanthropy. It's a miracle, something I've been blessed to see. Everyone is well looked after, there's no discrimination against muggle borns, no prejudice at Hogwarts. They got rid of the four houses, Neville is the headmaster there now with Minnie as his vice."

Ron put his head in his hands, willing the ache to stop. This was a lot. Could he make a life from this? After all, part of him had always believed that everything would be easier in the war if they could just force people to agree with them. It seemed so easy here.

And, so what? He had to run a raid every now and again, slap some unnamed wizard on the wrist for not agreeing with him. That seemed easy.

Harry and Hermione were alive. Luna was here. Sirius was here.

"How are my family here?" He asked, tentatively.

Sirius sighed, "Good. They've always been true to Harry, you know that. There are one or two unfortunate exceptions, Percy and Charles. Percy is in a detention centre currently and… as you may know… we're waiting for your decision on Charles."

Ron massaged his temples now, feeling the pain ease somewhat. This was good news, most of his family was okay. A thought struck him, "Hang on, the twins - ?"

As usual when people spoke of his brothers, Sirius grinned brightly, "Ah, yes! Genius' the pair of them. They still own their joke shop, very popular with Hogwarts kids, but on the side they also develop some products for us to use in the field."

He couldn't believe the words, not yet, he needed absolute confirmation before his spirits soared, "Wait, you mean… Fred is alive?"

Confused, Sirius nodded, "Of course. Is he not in our world?"

Ron didn't answer - he couldn't. Overcome with emotion, he leaped up out of his chair and hopped around for a few minutes. It changed everything and although Ron had some severe reservations about how things were run, he was placed at the top of this food pyramid. Hand me down robes were no longer a synonym for Weasley.

"You're not going to try to go back?" Sirius remarked, watching him.

"Well - you tried hard enough, right? I ought to give this place a try. You like it, don't you? You wouldn't go back?"

There was a pleasant quiet as the other man contemplated this, frowning. "I assume when I came here, in your world I was presumed dead?"

Ron nodded, gesturing for him to continue. "You would therefore assume that your Harry and Hermione - _our Harry and Hermione - _are now experiencing a far greater loss with you."

Feeling distinctly uncomfortable, Ron rubbed at the light stubble on his jaw, "Er, right you are. They're together now though - they don't need me as much, honestly."

"They're together here, too, but they still need you."

"What do you know? You barely knew Harry," Ron spat defensively in reaction to the guilt he felt. As soon as the words left him, Ron scrambled to rectify it, "Shit, Sirius, I'm sorry… I didn't mean that, you were right,"

Sirius only waved him off, but they fell into silence again. Gazing around the office, trying to understand this alien man that appeared to be him in this world, he thought about whether he should come clean to Harry and Hermione. He very much doubted they would kill or hurt him, but there was a strong possibility they would strip him of his title and put him in a training course. He would have to embody their Ron from this world. He realised something. "Hey, where the hell is the Ron from this world?"

"Dead, I heard. I wasn't lying earlier."

"Wicked. Time to make the most of this! Is it quarter to five already?" He smiled broadly at the other man.

Sirius regarded him for another moment before nodding sharply, "Let's go, they hate when we're late. Also, for shits sake, don't say anything that would make them want to read your mind. All of the top brass in here is highly trained in legilimens and occlumency, it's compulsory."

"Best I don't say anything at all, so."

* * *

The Wizengamot had always been something Ron dreaded attending. After the war, he was called as a witness in many trials, and for each one he complained loudly to his friends beforehand. It was boring, frustrating and emotionally exhausting.

Today was different.

Although he knew that this was not the same as the Wizengamot, the only real similarity being the trial element, Ron grouped them together in his mind and hoped this wouldn't be boring. He couldn't imagine it being boring, anyway.

He was ready now. Ron was prepared to dive deep into this new world and fully give himself to improving this code. If everyone he loved here was okay with it, then what right did he have to maintain some moral superiority? No, best to find some common ground, even if it was low ground.

Ron kept pace with Sirius, embodying the statue once again as he smirked and winked at those passing by. The majority of people he either vaguely recognised or didn't at all, but he was happy to see some familiar faces, too. Justin Finch-Fletchley ran by him with a wave, and Sirius chuckled, "Justin likes to get there extra early to try get a seat closest to Harry. Bit of a crush, you see. Most people do, the enigmatic leader."

He pushed away the discomfort of that thought - Harry had never been described as an _enigmatic _leader - and busied himself with his surroundings again. As they approached the double doors to the large hearing room, Ron spotted a large congregation to one side and realised they were reporters. Rita Skeeter stood at the front, shouting questions at them as they passed. She was joined by Romilda Vane, someone he was surprised he remembered the name of.

"No comments. We'll be answering questions at the press conference after the trial." Sirius' voice was monotone, and he got the feeling this was a regular occurrence.

Ron couldn't believe the room when he walked in. Now, there was a long elevated table at the front with seven chairs. The middle chair was higher than the rest and more decorative, like a throne, so Ron supposed that was Harry's. It was a bit much if you asked him.

The chairs faced out to the room, where there was a smaller table with three chairs in front of a general public area with about 50 seats. This room was nothing like Ron remembered. Along the walls were portraits of students Ron went to school with and then some older students he didn't know. Dumbledore, James and Lily Potter, the Longbottoms, and many more sat in the frames. They peered out of their paintings at the proceedings with interest.

People vied for free chairs in the public arena, rushing to grab one before they were thrown out. Sirius nudged him forward, not letting him linger there, and directed him to sit to the right of the throne. He gulped down his nerves, mentally prepping himself for the rest of his life. Ron needed to get a bloody hold on this.

As he climbed up to his seat, Ron began to notice that people looked at him with a mix of awe and fear. It was a humbling and uncomfortable thing to experience. Back home, he was viewed with wonder and respect, but awe and fear seemed a little more intimidating.

Sirius sat next to him, elbows on the table and his chin rested on his linked fingers. It wasn't long before Remus Lupin took the chair next to him, expressing surprise at their early attendance. Perhaps that was what he had been alluding to when he mentioned the disrespect of the code.

Luna Lovegood arrived then, walking slowly, eyes glazed over as if she were a zombie. She placed herself at the furthest chair to the left, which disheartened him a little. Shouldn't they be sitting together?

To his surprise, a preppy, pink-haired woman waltzed in and dropped herself beside Luna. She began chatting happily, prodding and poking the other woman until she eventually drew a smile. There was something about her that Ron recognised; the way she moved, spoke and the brightness she exuded. Without warning, her hair stood on its ends flashing bright green, before it returned to its choppy pink style. Luna laughed loudly at this.

Tonks.

It was beautiful seeing so many of his friends and family alive.

Before Ron could ponder this any further, the doors flew open and he nearly fell out of his chair. Utter silence enveloped the room. Harry and Hermione. They strode in together, never out of sync, with a confident, casual ease that made him instantly jealous.

As they neared him, Ron felt a strange sensation creeping up his neck - he had seen them before. Of course he had, it was Harry and Hermione - but… no.. this was different. Hermione's hair was darkened, unruly but dishevelled in a way that was very different to his Hermione. She wore Muggle clothing he had seen on her in the Ministry, black fitted trousers and a cream top she called a blouse.

She was breathtakingly beautiful, and breathtakingly different. Hermione winked at him, startling him as he took in her deep, maroon red painted lips and the thick blackness emphasising her eyelashes. Ron tried to nod casually but he had no idea if he pulled it off.

Harry was different, too. Black slacks and a black shirt hid underneath a red cloak that was the colour of the robes everyone wore. Hermione sported a similar, smaller cloak around her shoulders. It was an imperfect blend of wizard and muggle attire.

This was ridiculous, he thought, mind spinning.

Harry held out a hand for Hermione to climb onto the podium, stoking her face once before he hoisted her up and that was when it clicked. This Harry and Hermione looked like the one from the locket.

He couldn't dwell on that.

This Harry was older, wiser in a way he had never truly imagined. He cut an impressive figure, obviously putting a great deal of time into his looks with his trimmed styled stubble and perfectly mussed hair.

"Now," Hermione spoke, reading the file in front of her, "Please retrieve the accused."

"Darling," Harry almost purred, "Shouldn't we first express our gratitude to these good, wholesome people who have joined us today?" He squeezed her hand and faced the 'audience', "Ladies, gentlemen, thank you for being the beacon of light holding our society up, taking the day away from your busy lives to ensure the moral fabric of our society. Bravo."

His hollow words had a profound effect on the crowd, who simpered and smiled to each other while they basked in his appreciation.

"Please proceed, my love."

Hermione called for the prisoners to enter.

Ron had felt physically ill plenty of times, he'd thrown up his fair share of food - even slugs, lest we forget - but he had never truly been so disturbed and thrown off that the contents of his stomach lurched towards his throat.

Until he saw the prisoner.

A masked man dragged two women forward, hauling them into the chairs at the smaller table. They were wearing the same grey clothing, but these were far from the unblemished pair Goyle had been wearing. Torn, ragged and dirty; Ron could clearly make out from his position several dark red stains of blood. Black bags sat on their heads, but these were unceremoniously torn off and Ron faced one of his greatest tests in keeping his food down.

Shaking for reasons he didn't know, the first woman glimpsed up into her judges faces. Her hair was full and blonde once upon a time, but now there were clumps missing from the root, the skin discoloured there from where it tried to heal. One side of her face was a curious mixture of yellow, blue and navy as different bruises healed at their own pace. Her lip on the right side of her face was swollen thanks to a scab that had formed, only framed by a very faint bruising.

She met his eyes and he swallowed down bile. She probably was better off dead in his home world.

"Lavender Brown, you are charged with treason to the state, conspiracy to murder, obstruction of justice, accessory to grade two murder, petty arsonary and assault of an officer. How do you plead?" Hermione's voice was different; hard, emotionless.

"Not guilty," The blonde said fiercely, and spat in front of the table.

Ron winced, she really should not have done that. His thoughts were halted as he began to _feel _the magical energy crackle around Harry. Ron glanced at his best friend surreptitiously, trying not to draw attention to himself, but his blood ran cold when he spotted his friends face. Harry's eyes had never been so utterly devoid of life, so calculating and yet empty. Ron wasn't surprised people didn't cross him, he nearly wet his pants as he watched.

This Harry remained calm. It was the calmness that struck Ron most.

"Get a hold of yourself," Harry said, disgusted, "You can't even possess the class to carry yourself with some dignity in this courtroom. You dare disrespect us, who fought to protect you, and still fights for your liberties today? I see no reason why you should be allowed reprieve from the detention centre. Your actions today prove you are not in favor of improving our society as we are endlessly trying to do.."

She began to open her mouth and Harry held his hand up, voice louder this time, "Do not question me again."

An agonising minute passed in which his friend stared at Lavender until she bowed her head, her shoulders shaking with quiet sobs.

"Pureblood traitors stick together," Hermione said absently, sounding nothing like herself, "Isn't that right, Pansy? Are you happy to see Lavender who was once a heroic, strong Gryffindor, bowed as low as you?"

Ron had no idea that was Pansy Parkinson. Her black hair was long, knotted, matted and had various bits of dirt stuck in it but she still had her hair. It was more than he could say for her face, with one of her eyes swollen shut and her nose bleeding as she stood there. Cuts and scars were scattered across the rest of her skin, and he averted his eyes.

She tried to speak, but choked up, "I - I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, please let me go,"

"You're accused of the murder of Susan Bones, rest her soul. You then sought the protection of Lavender Brown. How long did you live with her, Pansy?" Hermione asked, her voice sickly sweet while her eyes bored into the girl.

"I - I don't remember, it was so long ago,"

"Lies," Hermione snapped, "Why can't you let us help you? We only want to help you."

"And what have you done to yourselves? Fighting in the cells? You sicken me," Harry added, looking repulsed by them.

"Ladies, do you have anything to say?" Sirius asked, leaning back in his chair.

"I didn't do anything wrong!" Lavender protested earnestly, "I was trying to help her - she was going to be killed!"

"Ah, ah, ah," Hermione tutted, "You must not tell lies, Ms. Brown."

She whimpered at that, burying her head in the crook of her arm. Pansy was now stoic, staring numbly into the wall behind them, eyes void of any meaning or emotion. "She is lying."

Lavenders head whipped around, eyes frenzied as she looked at her friend, "What are you doing? Please, Pansy, please, don't to this, _please," _

Pansy didn't look at her, "I didn't murder anyone. Lavender did it and blackmailed me into helping her, she said if I didn't she would pin it on me. My word wouldn't stand a chance against hers."

The irony was so thick that even Ron couldn't ignore it.

"You're lying! Why are you doing this - what deal did they make with you?" Lavender cried desperately, trying to get Pansy to look at her. She threw herself forward then, the table skidding, "Harry, Hermione, we were friends once, don't you remember? I would never betray you like this, please,"

Hermione only smiled sweetly, but Harry again looked sickened though not in the way Ron felt, "Stop embarrassing yourself. People must atone for their crimes, as code dictates. We cannot allow another Dark Lord to prosper by forgiving and forgetting."

To his utmost horror, Lavender turned to him then, "Ron, we had something, please. You know I'm not like this, _please, _I'll do anything… _please," _She whispered softly, tears rolling down her face as she struggled to wipe them away with the cuffs around her hands.

Ron grimaced, "Sorry, Lav. Won-won out." He felt some part of him die at those words. So casually and mockingly responding to the darkest depths of someone's soul, to answer her pleas and cries with nothing but a cruel trick.

He saw the corner of Harry's mouth twitch in a ghost of a smile. Hermione began to speak, "I'm not entirely sure we need to proceed with todays proceedings. Pansy Parkinson has come clean with herself and the world, she will be rewarded justly as our society demands. 3 months in the retraining program."

He saw the woman's head drop, her chin hitting her chest as head hung limply. Ron heard the deep inhale and exhale of relief before he saw the expression on her face.

"Ms. Brown," Hermione continued, her voice maintaining the disturbing sweet quality that unnerved him, "You know I am sorry that we can't help you."

Harry continued, "You have shown little remorse for the crimes you've taken part in, I'm not sure how we can trust you to be a valued member of our society. Wizarding Britain is small, we need to protect our people from murderers."

"Like _you?" _Lavender shot back.

Indignant murmurs and shouts rose from the crowd, but Harry only stood. He raised his hand and Lavender found herself lifting into the air with it. Ron's confusion turned to horror as he realised Harry was wandlessly choking her. Splutters erupted from the woman as she clawed at the nothingness holding onto her throat, her face becoming red and then grey. Before her lips could turn blue, Ron saw Hermione place a hand on Harry's arm and he abruptly dropped Lavender.

"Thank you, Hermione. I would hate to truly hurt one who we were once friendly with.." Harry then brought his hand up to his eyes, squeezing the bridge of his nose briefly before sighing shakily. He looked out to the crowd then, and Ron would later reflect that this was an impressively calculated move, "We cannot let ourselves become like them in our efforts to preserve what we have built. A great man once said it takes great courage to stand up to our friends, and that is what we must do, although it seems wrong and it hurts. Nothing is more important than preventing another Voldemort and allowing that mindset to fester. Unfortunately, we all know this well and none more so than myself, Hermione and Ron."

Harry turned to Lavender, looking to all the world like he was sympathetic. Ron knew the real Harry though, and this was not the sincere expression of sympathy he had seen so many times. "I'm sorry that we have to do this, Lavender. I wished for more for you."

Ron sat motionless as the masked man dragged a heaving Lavender by her hair through the back doors, Pansy trailing after. He needed to get out quick because his hands were shaking uncontrollably and he thought if he lingered or spoke he may vomit. Merlin, he was about thirty seconds from bursting into tears.

A moment of inspiration struck.

"Been dying to take a piss!" He shouted, running from the room with impressive speed. He didn't stop until he was back in the hallway with the golden statue.

* * *

A/N: Thanks for reading! And thank you so much to those who reviewed, it means a lot.

The characterisation of our usual heroes is starkly different here, which is just me playing with the idea of a dark Harry/Hermione. I could never buy them as dark lords in the way Voldemort is, I think they'd be better at masking a thirst for power and playing the muggleborn role up.

Anyway, please let me know what you think, I'm quite nervous posting this chapter!

Cheers,

CR.


	5. Chapter 5

**Choices**

_Chapter Five: Making a Stand_

Tears began to fall unbidden from his eyes, clouding his vision and making the task of opening the door to the department of mysteries harder. The corridor was deserted, the sign for the department of mysteries gone, but the door wouldn't budge. He threw himself at it several times to no avail, steadily getting more ragged with each try. The pain in his shoulder exploded on the fourth go, and Ron slid to the floor. For a few tragic moments, he let himself feel the pain of the day; the horror, the irreversible and immutable knowledge that his best friends were gone and likely his family, too. Ron was landed somewhere he didn't belong and god he could not do this, he could not become one of them.

Tears continued to stream down his face and the bile that he had been holding all day finally erupted, quickly pooling out all over the floor.

"You're a sight for sore eyes," A voice grumbled, and he heard them whisper cleaning spells to fix the situation.

Ron wiped at his eyes so he could see, "Sirius?"

He nodded, "Yes, kiddo. I locked up this department years ago to ensure this place never leaked out into a better world. You understand now?" Ron could only make a noise of assent, not trusting himself to speak yet. "I needed you to see what it's like here, to maybe prevent it happening in our world… if - if there's even the slightest chance you'll make it back."

"I'm going to try." Ron said resolutely, feeling stronger than he had all night. "I think you should come with me."

Sirius shook his head, "I'm too long here… I've seen too much and been exposed to so much of this blasted code, I wouldn't trust myself."

He wasn't going to back down so easy, "I'd trust you. Your first reaction when you found out about me was to help. You're a prisoner here, too. Harry would die if I brought both of us back, he'd owe me for years." Ron's attempt at humour fell flat.

"It doesn't matter anyway, it doesn't work," Sirius insisted, bringing a hand to his head, "It doesn't work."

"I'd hate myself if I didn't at least try."

Sirius gave him a hard stare, lips set in a grim line. Ron tried his best not to waver under the heavy gaze and was rewarded for it when Sirius nodded mutely and pushed Ron out of his way. He lay his wand hand on the Department of Mysteries door for a few minutes, quietly muttering a long incantation Ron couldn't make out. The door lit up briefly around the edges and Sirius took a step back.

He hesitated for a moment and then clapped Ron on the shoulder, "Very best of luck, son. If you make it… tell Harry - tell him I'm proud of the road he chose."

* * *

There was none of the quiet trepidation in Ron now in this department. His reluctant light footfalls from before were replaced with a boundless energy as he stomped his way to the veil. Feeling more determined than he had ever remembered, Ron talked to himself incessantly about where he wanted to go and how he was going to get there. Why he needed to get there.

Home. Harry and Hermione. Family. Goodness.

Repeating this mantra, Ron stopped fully in front of the veil. He closed his eyes and tried to block out the voices that grew louder, frantic, as he approached. From a conversation he had with Sirius, the veil grew solid when he tried to jump through it, resulting in bruises and broken bones more than once. Ron would be more careful than that.

Gingerly, he outstretched his hand and watched with what could only be described as true glee when his hand was absorbed into the beyond. It began to drag him in, as if hoovering him up, but he abruptly wrenched his arm back.

What was he doing? It would be so easy, he could jump in and be back to his normal life. He could put this all down to a haywire nightmare, repress the hell out of it and never mention the debacle again.

_No, _something inside Ron stated firmly. He was a Gryffindor; he would not run from darkness, he would not remain silent in the face of injustice._ It takes a great deal of bravery to stand up to our enemies, but just as much to stand up to our friends._

* * *

Ron wandered back to his office with a faked exuberance and confidence that he hoped hid the jumbled mess he was inside. His mind was constantly racing with a plan, throwing up ideas one moment and shooting them down in the next. The real problem was, he was missing two thirds of the whole. True enough, there were some schemes with his friends that Ron had heavily brainstormed and invented, but for the most part it was a collaborative effort. Sometimes it was a brilliant, innovative solution Hermione came up with it and other times it was the leap to a conclusion Harry had made from a hunch he had.

Either way, he was finding it difficult to move forward, knowing the great amount of risk to him and the inevitable outcome should he be caught in an unsavoury position. This was no easy feat, betraying your friends and beliefs, even if they weren't truly _his. _Ron briefly pondered on how the Ron from here handled all this. Did he eagerly develop the code with the excitement people seemed to think? Probably, he conceded, if Harry and Hermione had.

One thing was certain, he couldn't go to Harry and Hermione with this. For a moment, he entertained the idea of coming clean with Luna, but knew it was ridiculous. Luna was too deep into the hierarchy, to entrenched in the moral standards she fought to uphold.

Sirius was an option, but Ron wasn't convinced the man wasn't wholly loyal to Harry. It would be too much to expect him to betray them, he had done enough by being honest and helpful. That was betrayal enough.

No, Ron would have to solve this on his own. What did he wish to accomplish anyway?

Against his better judgement, Lavenders face flashed in his mind and Ron was forced to confront what really bothered him about this situation. The detention centres and retraining programs. They were the only true obstacle that kept Ron from participating in this bloody code they developed. It seemed a lot like torture and forced brainwashing, extending to enslavement even.

Glancing up from his seat at his desk, Ron noticed Goyle standing in the corner, eyes fixed ahead and his hands held behind his back. Perhaps he could be of use, but then again, it was quite possible he would never trust Ron to be kind.

"Goyle," The man did not start in surprise, but strode forward to stand in front of his desk awaiting instructions. "You understand that anything I ask you, anything you hear or do for me, is strictly confidential?"

"Yes, sir," Goyle enunciated quickly, not missing a beat, "I am loyal and true."

He almost snorted at the thought of hearing that from this man back home, but it died in his throat. "Right. I have some questions. Where is the detention centre?"

Ron saw the man frown in confusion for a second before his face became blank again, "Ground floor minus two, sir."

"I assume it's heavily guarded?"

"Yes, sir. There are experiments that are conducted in the halls from 6am to 6pm daily. Prisoners are fed at 7pm. After that, there are shifts distributed to the enforcers."

"How would I discover who the enforcers are tonight? How many are there usually? Is the detention centre big?"

"Sir, I don't understand," Goyle admitted, the low baritone and dumb expression reminding Ron of the Goyle he once knew. "You create the shift schedule. There should be a copy in your file cabinet."

"Quite." Ron said, unsure of himself, "Retrieve tonights for me. And do not question me," He hastened to add, forgetting his character for a minute.

It took Goyle several minutes to locate the correct sheet of parchment, but he swiftly moved to deliver it once he had found it. He was right back to standing at attention though, eyes pointed at an object above Ron's head. Ron remained sitting, of course, casually reading through the file.

His eyes ran down the page, searching for todays date. He nearly hit himself, "Er, Goyle, what date is it today?"

"10th of August, sir."

Bingo. The two enforcers on duty were Ginny Weasley and Dean Thomas. Ron felt his heart sink; why did it have to be people he knew? Being truthful, he had hoped to avoid meeting any of his family, afraid after meeting his two best friends.

"Where do Harry and Hermione stay at night?"

Goyle looked surprise again, "I'm not certain, sir. I believe they have their own house somewhere."

"They don't stay here?" He asked, wanting to be sure, even though it would have been ridiculous to think they'd live at the new Ministry. More like Evil HQ, Ron thought, as there was very little left that was similar to the Ministry. He found himself oddly aching for the convoluted bureaucracy and snails pace of change.

"No, sir."

"Excellent. And what of the retraining program? Where do they stay for the night?"

"They sleep in the detention centres in a separate area that has more comforts than standard, sir."

Ron realised with a twitch that Goyle was speaking from experience. A thought bloomed, "When is the last time you've been there?"

For the first time, Goyle's eyes flickered to his before they went back to the space above Ron's head, "Before I was honoured enough to be appointed to your service, sir. That would be 14 months ago now, sir."

Ron pondered this, "Could you take me there this evening? I have some business to take care of and getting lost is a waste of time."

From the way Goyle's brow furrowed at the nothingness through Ron's window, he knew that had he not been in a position of far greater power, Goyle would have questioned this move. He recognized that the man probably feared what Ron was planning, and more than likely worried deeply for his friends and perhaps family that were housed in the centre. "I am bound to help with whatever you need, sir."

It wasn't the assured compliance that Goyle usually gave which confirmed Ron's suspicions. Well, he had nothing to fear, Ron did not intend on prolonging anyone's pain.

Perhaps his own, but he now reckoned his years with Harry and Hermione had turned him into one hell of a bloody masochistic sap.

* * *

A/N: Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed it. If you could let me know what you think please that would make my day :)

Thanks to all the reviewers so far.

We're coming to the end now of this fic. 2-3 more chapters, I'd say. Probably 2.

Thanks again!

CR.


	6. Chapter 6

**Choices**

_Chapter Six: Gyffindor Spirit_

Godric Gryffindor had nothing on him. Ron made sure his robes were tightly fastened around himself, his wedding ring shining securely from his finger and his hair slicked back as he had seen on the Ron in he photos. Feeling safe in his look, he turned to Goyle who was waiting near the door for him.

Darkness fell over the office, the light from the windows doing little to brighten the room once it turned to 8pm. "Goyle, how do I look? Normal, right?"

The man nodded firmly in response, which was enough for Ron. Slipping his wand into the holster on his arm, Ron took a deep breath. He was going to channel a bit of Harry here, jump in with a vague plan and wing it. He didn't want to check the numbers, but he figured Harry enjoyed more success than failure from that strategy.

He sent a quick letter to Sirius, watching his owl fly into the distance before he turned back. "Let's go. Remember, you're taking me to Lavender. I'm going to teach her a lesson after her disrespect today. It's embarrassing to have been once linked to a witch like that."

Goyle kept his face impressively empty, "Yes, sir."

Ron watched him for a minute, guilty at having a human indebted to him like this. It wasn't comfortable. "Right, well let's get on with it then."

They were blessed with a gratifyingly empty floor outside of his office. He supposed even in this world, no one liked to stay too late at work. Though knowing this place they likely had some sort of curfew in effect anyway. This code was worse than his Mum and Dad.

It was the ride down in the lift that actually worried Ron. He had a prestigious office on the top floor, supposedly a symbol of his position of power, but for this it was more a nuisance. They had to hope that no one on the twenty floors below wanted to get onto the lift. He should have procured some felics felix, Ron realised, cursing himself. This was what happened when you leaped into plans and winged it. Bloody Potter.

A wave of panic chilled him to his core when the lift doors opened, and four faces he knew very well climbed in. He glanced at the floor number - 16. He had a lot of floors to go before he reached his destination. Ron gulped, closing his eyes briefly as he tried to get in character. Goyle had stilled behind him, little more than a statue now.

"Mate, where have you been?" Harry asked, green eyes bright as he touched his shoulder. "We've been looking for you, you missed a great game of pool."

Ron scanned his brain, what he hell was pool? He figured they must have brought some muggle games to their world, because if it was a wizarding game, Ron would know about it. He reasoned that his Ron couldn't be that good at it - he still grew up as a wizard, and at most probably started playing the game a couple of years ago. Gambling, he grumbled, "Ah, you just wanted to beat me again."

Harry laughed and it was so eerily similar to his own friend that Ron relaxed a little. Hermione stood to the side of the lift, watching them descend the floors with a disinterested look. Luna was observing him quietly, unnerving him though he refused to show it.

The fourth person, Ron was afraid to look at for too long. His dear sister, humming an upbeat tune as she twisted a lock of hair around her finger. He jolted at her voice, surprised to hear it after so long, "Hermione, do you want to come down and check on the experiment results from this week? Luna said there's been real progress in the organ regeneration transfiguration."

Hermione's eyes fell on his sister, "So I've heard, the developments have been quite fascinating. We're lucky to have such an adept research team."

"You've helped tremendously, Ms. Granger." Luna spoke, and Ron was struck by how genuine she seemed. She appeared respectful, even reverent, as she looked at Hermione. Ginny held no such reverence, but she did appear to watch the older witch's reaction keenly.

"Hermione's a genius, alright," Harry said lightly, "We're lucky to have her."

The ease of the conversation was odd, and he found it difficult to reconcile this with the people he saw at the hearing. "We're lucky." Hermione responded simply, and he was disconcerted to find her turning to him, "Where are you off to, Ron? You usually floo home from your office."

The four turned to him for his reaction, and that's when Harry's head tilted, "You're bringing Gregory Goyle? Home?"

"They're not meant to replace house elves," Hermione interjected fiercely, and he wondered if she had enforced spew on everyone here. Wait, no, S.P.E.W.

He needed to derail this discussion, "No. Goyle is coming to the detention centre in case there is any… messiness." Ron tried his best to seem repulsed by this, thinking of Snape in every class and chaneling him. Lip curled, he went on, "I want to have a little _chat _with Lavender after today. I'm embarrassed to have a history with her."

"While she acted… regrettably," Hermione said eventually, "We must not continuously punish, people must be allowed the opportunity to change. Lavender was always a bit dim-witted, she'll see eventually."

"We're doing the right thing." Harry said, his voice flat but he was looking at Ron with an intensity and he tried his best to throw up inane thoughts in case he was reading his mind.

"A reminder couldn't hurt her." Ron replied evenly.

Hermione rolled her eyes, "We're not getting into this here, but you can't keep taking justice into your own hands without our approval." She glanced at the floor and saw they were on the ground. "Respect, remember."

She linked her arm through Harry's, the other man not saying another word as they left. Luna began to walk out, too, and Ron was suddenly determined to give her some parting words as he was sure he wouldn't see her again. This night would end his time here one way or another.

"Ginevra, hold the lift," He shouted, sprinting after his 'wife'. It seemed his sister went with her official name here.

He grabbed Luna's arm, turning her around and crushed her in a hug, "I'm so sorry. We're better than this. You're better than this," He pulled back, looking into her eyes, "Take a vacation and look for some of those creatures. Nargles, right?"

She was wary, "You hate those creatures."

"But I love you," He meant it. He may not be in love with Luna Lovegood, but she was absolutely one of the people he loved deeply. "I'll be better for you but you need a break. You're tired. You deserve more than what you're getting."

Luna smiled sadly, "I am happy, Ron. It seems you're the one that's struggling." She stepped back, "I'll see you at home."

He watched her go for a minute. "Oi! Ron! I haven't got all night."

The sound of Ginny's voice brought him from his haze and he ran back to the lift. She huffed as he stepped inside, "_Ginevra?"_

Covering his blunder, Ron tried to appear sly, "I know how much you love it."

"You're lucky I bothered to hold the lift. I hate that they make me use Ginevra in my work."

Ron contemplated her words, "Are you happy with your work?"

"Absolutely. Weasley's are finally getting what we deserve and those snobby, stuck-up, prejudice pureblood bastards are being told no for once." Her words were fierce, matching her expression, the passion reddening her face and making her hair seem alive.

"Good, sis." He managed, caught off guard by her vehemence.

She settled again, and he knew they were only two floors away, "I'll give you time with Lavender Brown. I need some alone time with Dean anyway, if you catch my drift,"

He blanched, "Gross."

"You usually don't care," Ginny shrugged, not reading into it like everyone else. "Mum is still on at me to marry him. You fucked it up by not marrying Ms. Granger and now the hot seat has passed to me to marry a muggleborn."

"Dean isn't a Muggleborn." Ron was confused, and settled on something vague to hide it.

Ginny shrugged, "Close enough." They exited the lift, her ignoring his goodbye and rushing off to find her beau. Ron stood still for a minute, reading the signs on the wall in front of him. To his right were words like 'testing facility' 'regrowth chamber' 'the silent room' to the left 'chambers' 'interrogation facility'. Sighing deeply, Ron signalled with Goyle to follow him to the left.

The walls were bare of paint, showing the grey brick they were built with. The floors were the same, grey granite hard and cold under his steps. Ron tried to prepare himself for what he would see in the chambers, but it was so much worse than he imagined. He tried to recollect himself, leaning over and placing his hands on his knees. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale.

Even that was hard, the retching smell of blood and disease, the metallic taste of it lingering in the air, churned his stomach again and again.

There were people talking low and fast to themselves, some crying, shaking uncontrollably. They shouted as he passed, some pleading for help, praising him and the code. Others were less reserved and cursed him, bellowed his name in harsh tones laced with hatred.

One had the bravery - or was it stupidity? - to spit at him through the bars, but before he could react Goyle had flicked his wand to flatten the person against the back wall of their cell. Ron was sure that was beyond his call of duty, but too thankful to voice it. "I'm surprised you have a wand."

"It is restricted to a few dozen spells, sir. You implemented that."

Goyle was suspicious, that much was certain. Ron didn't care, the man couldn't do anything with his suspicion and while that was unfair, it suited Ron at the moment. He strode to the last cell in the area, squinting in the low light.

Lavender was sitting against the right hand wall, knees drawn to her chest as she leaned her head against it. There was another person in the cell, sat in the darkest corner in the back, but Ron paid them no heed, "Lavender." The name felt strange on his tongue; wrong, confusing and for some reason guilt inducing.

She jumped, her eyes widening and her heart clutching her chest. Upon realising who he was, her fear and anxiety deepened and she shook her head incessantly, "Please, please leave me, I'm sorry, I won't say anything else, I shouldn't have spoken to you earlier."

"You shouldn't have," Ron agreed, "There's still a real Gryffindor fire in you."

He opened the cell with a quick alohomora, watching the woman shrink back, as if trying to blend into the wall. Ron noticed with a sinking feeling that she was shaking now, tears slipping from her eyes as he came closer. When she opened her eyes, however, they were determined despite how glassy they were, "Don't hurt me."

Ron gently touched her arm, hating how she flinched, "I won't."

Slowly, Lavender looked up at him, and he saw how much she wanted to believe him. Ron sighed, "I need you to be as strong as you were earlier, Lavender. I'm not going to be here much longer. You need to be strong for yourself. You know this is not how we should be after Voldemort. Freedom for everyone is important."

"I know!" she said, desperately, "that's all I wanted."

Ron nodded, "You're going to break everyone out of here. It's not going to be easy but you need to mobilize people. Harry and Hermione won't go down easy. Let me tell you a secret though - everyone thinks Harry is infallible," Lavender instantly agreed, but he held up a hand to hush her, "He is not. He's actually weaker than both myself and Hermione in this regard. I know this is hard to believe, but they will soon find Ron's dead body. If someone were to also kill Hermione, Harry would not rise up in a murderous rage. He would be powerless."

Lavender gaped at him, "What are you doing? What are you saying?"

"He's tricking you, you stupid girl," The voice in the corner snapped, and Ron watched with growing dread as they stood up. The man he had been chanelling so accurately stepped into the light, looking startlingly different to school. Ron would have loved to laugh at the situation, but it was definitely lacking in humour. Severus Snape stood before him, clad in the same grey, shabby clothes that everyone else did. Ron was heartened, however, to see his hair was as greasy as ever and his sneer was perfectly intact. Some things never changed.

Wait, what had he said?

"No, no, I'm not. I'm not from this world. The Ron here is dead… and I'm going to try get back to my own time tonight. I needed to free you, help you end this first. I couldn't go with the knowledge you were all stuck here unfairly."

"What a noble Gryffindor," Snape snapped, "As if we are to believe it after all this time. We've all seen you, Weasley, the heartiest thirst for blood of all."

He gulped at that. "I'm not that Weasley." Thank bloody hell. Shaking himself, "We don't have much more time. Where are your wands kept?"

"Shouldn't you know that better than us?"

Ron was growing frustrated with Snape. Once a git, always a git, "Have you been listening? I'm not the same Ron, I don't know shit."

"Sir - "

"Not now, Goyle," Ron waved him off, "Snape, it's important you help grow the resistance, I know you have 'expertise', should I say, in that area. I'm going to help break you all out and then you're going to fight back."

"Harry is weaker?" Lavender questioned sceptically.

Ron tried to appear as serious as he could, "Absolutely. Hermione once went down from an injury and he lost all ability to speak or think. It's his weakness; exploit it."

He valiantly repressed the guilt at advising them on how to take down his best friends. It was for their own good, wasn't it? Regardless, Ron knew his own real friends would want this. Wouldn't they? Hermione could be ruthlessly practical at times, and Harry had shown glimpses of cold detachment in the most dire of moments.

No. He wouldn't let this colour the opinion of his two best friends, two of the most selfless, kind people he had ever met. His Harry and Hermione were undoubtedly, indubitably, wholesomely _good. _

"Ron, what are you doing?" He span around to face his sister, who had her wand trained on him. She was watching the scene carefully, her eyes moving from the prisoners to Ron slowly. "I think you should hand over your wand."

Her hair was thoroughly mussed, and Dean appeared behind her then, his wand also raised. Ron took a minute to assess the situation and then dived to his right, shooting a stunning spell at his sister.

She ducked, but it hit Dean, who fell to the ground with a thud.

Ginny was always a fine duelist, a fact that seemed to be consistent across worlds. Her hexes grew more dangerous as they exchanged spells, but he tried to keep it safe, harmless; Ron did not want to permanently damage her.

In between ducks and dives, Ron shouted, "Goyle, some help would be great."

"I can only do menial spells, sir." His voice sounded regretful, but Ron could have been imagining it in the heat of the moment.

A red light shot out from behind Ginny then and he glimpsed the surprise on her face before she stiffened and joined her boyfriend on the ground, stunned. "Looks like you can't do anything without my help."

Ron couldn't help it; his heart soared. He tried to resist the urge, but it overpowered him and Ron jovially grabbed Sirius into a hug, clapping him several times on the back, "Am I glad to see you!"

His owl to Sirius had been a gamble. Either the wizard would turn him in, and Ron would have to face his reckoning with bravery and maybe guilt his friends into a light sentence, or he would join him. He was more than overjoyed to see the man join him; he was relieved, thankful, optimistic.

"Black," Snape grimaced, never able to keep his mouth shut.

"Keep it in the past," Ron threw out quickly and was surprised by how quickly Snape fell silent. He supposed this power and position of superiority was useful for some things. It was dangerous, knowing how useful it was to have others obey without question. Ron wanted to shake the knowledge from himself, hating the possibility that someday he could long for it, or worse, subconsciously mimic it.

"Thought you might need these," Sirius announced, pulling a small bag from his pocket and enlarging it. Ron glanced inside to find what must have been two dozen wands. He looked up quizzically and Sirius explained, "They're random wands so won't work amazingly for these lot, but it's better than nothing. It'll do. Magic won't work in the cells but the corridor is fine."

"Brilliant." He turned, grabbing two wands for the cell mates. Lavender appeared eager, leaning forward with anticipation. Snape was more guarded, eyeing them carefully. "You two, will you honestly not hex me and just get on with escaping? You, particularly." He directed at Snape, "We don't need revenge right now, you need to escape and regroup."

They nodded, Lavender far more enthusiastic. With far too much trust, Ron handed the wands over. Unbidden, both chose that moment to race by him. Snape disappeared out of the dungeons, not once looking back and over his shoulder as he scurried away.

Ron grunted. Once a Slytherin..

Lavender immediately set about freeing everyone else, and Ron started to think that perhaps it was best if he left. He wanted to see his brothers, ensure their freedom, but now that Lavender was working on opening the next cell, he was feeling disturbed. Some of the prisoners were looking at him like he was their next meal and he realised he was probably the one to put a lot of them here. He represented everything that their bad luck was based on. Ron had caused their misery, pain, desolation and even breaking them out couldn't take that back. Panicking, he blasted the wall with a 'reducto' before realising they were far from the ground floor.

"How do we get them out?"

Sirius frowned, standing from his position of opening another cell. Ron noticed he was constantly putting up protego shields, even though no one had tried to take them down yet. "The floos and apparition points upstairs will have to do. They'll have to take care of themselves."

A loud ringing started to bloom around them, shocking Ron. His eyes whipped to Sirius who grimaced, "That would be our alarms. Someone has spotted us."

Lavender rushed to him then, her voice low and deadly, "Go. If you have a chance to leave here, take it. I can't stop them when they decide they want revenge. We'll handle it from here."

He hesitated, torn between taking her advice and believing it to be cowardly. Sensing this, Lavender gripped his hand, "There is no shame in a tactical retreat. The line between stupid and bravery is always blurred for us Gryffindors. Thank you, and go."

Finally taking her at her word, Ron and Sirius both began to flee the dungeons. Sirius took point, being more familiar with the area than Ron and they ran for what felt like ages. Opting to avoid the lift, Sirius took them to a back stairs area and climbed them two at a time.

His heart was about to leap out of his chest, adrenaline pumping through him and keeping Ron from falling apart. He hoped Sirius didn't plan on taking the stairs all the way to the top floor. They reached the ground floor and the older man pointed toward the exit door, nearly falling through it when it opened with practiced ease.

"Not so fast."

Ron blinked, whipping out his wand in seconds. Sirius wasn't so fast and held his hands up in surrender.

"Sirius, how could you do this?" Remus Lupin's eyes were sad, and he sounded like he was pleading with Sirius for a real answer. He didn't want to hurt his friend.

Sirius opened his mouth to respond, but Ron saw that moment of distraction as his opportunity to strike and stunned Lupin quickly. He was shocked when Sirius rounded on him, irate, his face contorted as he hissed, "You shouldn't have done that, he's my only friend in this goddamn place."

"He's dead in my world," Ron admitted, the words tumbling out of his mouth before he could stop them. "But he left behind a little boy who lost both his parents and could do with another friendly face."

"I'm not going with you, Ron. My place is here."

Alarms continued to ring out as they moved towards the lift, and Ron knew it was only a matter of minutes before dozens of enforcers and his best friends descended upon them, ready to feast on the sins of traitors.

"You _have _to," Ron insisted, eyes glued to the numbers that displayed the floor they were on, "You'll be skinned alive here."

He looked shook at that prospect, "I'll blame it all on you, say you used imperius,"

"Weak," He threw back, "Lupin saw the truth of it, Ginny, too. You reckon they'll believe you over them?"

The older man appeared perturbed by this and fell silent, the only sounds echoing around them being the distant repetition of sirens. The level of noise unnerved Ron and he quickly prayed that if he was caught, he would die quickly and be put out of his misery. He did not want to endure the same fate of those he freed tonight.

Ron was glad to have maintained his composure for so long, but he knew he needed to be on the move again soon or he would fall apart. His display earlier was only a fraction of what was going to happen once he stopped, and he momentarily felt sorry for whoever would help him clean up the vomit he would definitely expel.

Thankfully, they finally reached their floor and shared a quick look before darting towards their destination. As they sprinted, breath coming short, Ron managed to huff, "Don't be stubborn, you would be so much better on our world. I know you don't like all of this bollocks,"

"I'm safe here, I know how to behave to get by,"

"Not anymore," Ron managed to reply breathily, skidding to a stop as Sirius opened the door with an incantation again. They stilled for a minute, Ron's mind grasping at reasons to get his friends godfather a few steps further, "Walk me there at least in case someone is about to ambush."

They both knew no one else was able to get into the department, but Ron took it as a good sign that Sirius moved past him to lead the way. "You're not clever, Weasley, I know what your plan is."

"You'll die here, you know that. You'll be an unnamed experiment of Luna's, Harry's example to others."

They were getting closer, Ron could feel the magic in his veins grow frenzied as he came closer to his ultimate goal. He felt a great upheaval of emotion as the dream of returning home grew more and more likely.

Once approaching the veil, Ron tried again, "You know I'm right. You're going to willingly go to Azkaban again?"

That seemed to do something to the man, because his expression changed so abruptly to one of fear that Ron felt a chill overcome him, "I want to, but the veil won't let me."

"It will," Ron insisted, "You'll take my hand and come with me. We can do it. If you believe in divination, the stars, all that bollocks, then believe that's why I was allowed here."

Ron was growing agitated, their time was running short and with each rerun of the sirens he grew more and more anxious. He didn't want to throw his life away for Sirius, but Ron knew that if he didn't try everything to bring him back for Harry that he would never forgive himself. Ron had been a prat to his friends in the past, but that wasn't him anymore, and he was determined to not let it be him again.

Both men jolted, identical expressions of awe as their eyes met. Someone was calling their names, voices that sounded suspiciously like Harry and Hermione… it was coming from the veil.

"I'm going," Ron said resolutely, "Are you going to come with me?"

He held out his hand, hoping that this time he was the one to rescue Sirius Black from a situation he didn't deserve.

* * *

A/N: Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed.

So, we got the climax here, the home run is next chapter. When planning this story, I did debate Ron leading a rebellion in this world and fleshing out the fic, but I didn't want to commit to that as this fic was a plot that bloomed from wondering about a world where the vision the locket gave Ron in DH existed. It was to test my writing skills after so long, and I'm glad I did it.

Last chapter will be the next one, and I hope you have enjoyed the ride. Thanks so much to all who have reviewed, it means so much!

Cheers,

CR.


	7. Chapter 7

**Choices**

_Chapter Seven: Mental_

There weren't enough words to express how Harry Potter had felt the last two days. Time didn't pass normally, and it was a heavily regrettable contradiction that it passed treacherously slowly and mutinuously quickly. Each moment he stood in the Department of Mysteries, watching the veil with dry eyes and a heavy heart, he was forced to confront the terrible truth he had never wanted to experience; Ron was probably dead.

Harry thought he had grown as a person, but with each passing hour, he became more insular, broody, and inwardly a hatred brewed. Self-loathing stewed, simmering just below the surface as he was thrown back to his fifteen year old self, barreling into a scheme with no real plan or forethought. Even Hermione hadn't been able to warn him this time.

Hermione.

His heart clenched at the thought of her, and he chanced a glance down. Her head was resting on his shoulder, her hands clenched tightly in front of her as her gaze sat unwaveringly on the veil, too. Harry wasn't sure why they persisted in this level of denial; everyone had already tried to tell them that the veil was a one way system.

Bill Weasley had come to tell them that Ron's funeral would be tomorrow.

The Minister had informed them that the unspeakables wished for them to leave, and Harry was absolutely certain that it was only his name stopping them from being fired. As it was, they were suspended, but the ire and frustration that would usually accompany something like that was absent. He couldn't feel anything but this moment.

Ron couldn't be gone.

As if it were possible by sheer will of thought, Harry repeated this to himself and aloud throughout the day. Hermione always made sounds of agreement, wrapping herself around him, providing them both the comfort they sought so desperately. He brought his hand down to softly cover hers, rubbing his thumb against the back.

She sniffed, and he realised with dread that she was crying when a few tears fell to his hand. Eventually, she whispered, "Harry, he can't be gone. He - he doesn't deserve that. After… after all we've given.. To.. to just.."

He hushed her, gently offering words of comfort, unsure if it was for her benefit or his, but Harry couldn't listen any more. He couldn't yet bear to think of the injustice of this twist, couldn't begin to ponder on his undeniable liability, and instead continued to try convince himself that Ron was about to fall out the other side of the veil, laughing about his greatest prank yet.

Hermione froze in her stroking of his hand, her whole body stilling. Harry eyed her cautiously, "What's wrong?"

"Harry, do you hear that?" She asked, frowning.

He strained forward, trying to listen while avoiding the questions on Hermione's sanity. He gasped then as he heard it.

"_I want to, but the veil won't let me," _

Hermione's jaw dropped, "It - it can't be,"

He shook his head, tears building in his eyes, "It's finally happening. We're going mad, Hermione."

"Mental," She whispered sadly, and he squeezed her hand at the echo of their friend in that word.

"_... all that bollocks.." _The words were broken, distant, but his eyes flew to meet Hermione's. Harry knew instantly by the expression on her face that she had definitely heard it, too, and it was most certainly their best friends voice.

Without even discussing it, Harry and Hermione began shouting Ron's name. Over and over again until they were hoarse, until the sobs were making his voice waver and her cries were growing scratchy. Eventually, Harry also shouted 'Sirius', and it slipped out before he could even stop himself. Hermione looked at him with red-rimmed wide eyes, confusion fluttering across her face. He pulled her tightly against him, both of them calling out Ron's name every few minutes, though it became steadily quieter. Her body sagged against his, but there were no more tears left to shed.

He knew Hermione's brain was racing to make sense of this, he did the same, and he pushed valiantly against the instinct to grab Hermione and make a dive into the veil. He knew that Ron was there, _he knew it. _

There was a loud clatter then and Harry's head sprang up in time to see his best friend gingerly step out of the veil, right foot first and pulling the rest of him as if he were lifting a particularly heavy box.

Hermione let out a cry of relief, and Harry shook as he reached for his friend, intent on helping him break through the veil. Ron's head came through then, "Care to give a mate a hand?"

"Ron!" Hermione exclaimed, happiness abundant on her tone. They both reached for Ron's hand, jerking it with all their might as they pulled him unceremoniously from the monstrous nightmare. Harry didn't even notice when Ron's body was fully out of the veil, but his friend kept pulling at something.

Hermione voiced his concerns, "Ron, what are you doing? Let go, please let go,"

She sounded panicked, concerned with Ron's mindset. They didn't know what he had experienced in the last few days and it would be wrong to underestimate that. Harry had spent the better part of his post-war life as an auror, and he was trained now in not jumping to conclusions but he immediately worried for his friends sanity.

"Ron, mate, it's okay, we've got you," He tried to keep his voice steady, but it sounded wobbly to his ears.

He almost forgot about the unspeakables milling around the department in dark robes, faceless, ageless agents who intervened only in the blackest of situations. Harry fought the urge to call out for their help; he didn't want their questions, their intrusion and violation of privacy.

Ron frowned at him, "Help me, keep pulling."

Harry could only watch then in stunned silence as another body began to emerge slowly from the veil, and then all at once, they were all falling back as it jerked free, entering into their world with a bang.

He scrambled back on ground, using his feet to propel him back a few feet, unable to trust what his eyes were seeing. Hermione came to rest beside him, her hand coming to rest on his arm as she tried to calm him, but she looked as speechless and stunned as he felt.

Ron reached out to them, "I promise it's real. I'm real."

"I'm sorry, Harry," Said a familiar, raspy voice and he turned with rapt attention to the figure he had mourned for so long now. Harry only had Sirius Black in his life for a short time but the man had been almost fatherly towards him and he thought about him nearly every day. They weren't painful any more; usually amusement or thoughtful.

Seeing him here was painful though. This was a cruel, torturous trick of the mind and he wished more than ever that he was not in the Department of Mysteries. He was finally losing his mind. Harry clenched his eyes shut and began to count to three, fervently hoping he had not lost himself.

"Harry, it's real, I swear, mate." Ron grasped his shoulder and pulled him into an embrace. Automatically, he provided information that only he would know, "Last summer, while trying to teach me some Muggle sport, we smashed my Mum's blue vase in the living room.. To fix it, we transfigured a dish towel and she has yet to notice,"

Harry's responding laugh was shaky but he tightened his hold on his friend, not trusting himself to speak. He knew this was Ron, recognised the reality of that fact the moment Ron had grinned and called him mate. What he couldn't bring himself to believe was the man next to him was Sirius Black.

He pulled back from his friend, both of them a bit teary, but Harry's attention was soon called to his girlfriend as she tentatively approached Sirius who looked altogether lost. He watched as the man tried his best to smile, charmingly leaning forward towards Hermione and saying lightly, "I hear you're still the brightest witch of your age."

Hermione exhaled abruptly and threw her arms around him, holding tightly and crying softly. She pulled back, swiping at her eyes, and a laugh escaped her lips, "I can't believe it's you."

"I can't believe it either," He said, his voice low and soothing. He rubbed Heermione's back lightly, trying to comfort her.

Harry finally found his courage, and turned to face his godfather, "Sirius, it - it's really you?"

Despite himself, tears instantly sprang to Sirius' eyes and he held them back so he could speak firmly to his beloved godson, "It's really me."

It was a mutual, immediate reaction - no one could be sure who moved first, but suddenly Harry and Sirius were hugging, tears flowing down their faces as they expressed words of surprise and shock.

Ron watched the scene with a heavy heart, feeling overwhelmed by all that he had experienced. The emotional wave he had been keeping at bay swarmed then, heaving his body over as he started to cry. He felt Hermione wrap her arms around him, "I'm so glad you're okay. You're okay, god, you're okay, I'm so glad, thank god," she murmured, holding him upright against her.

He said loudly then for them all to hear, "What saps we all are."

Everyone let out a shaky laugh at that, relieved someone had attempted to bring some levity to lighten the mood. The room was beginning to lighten, the joy palpable as he took in their expressions. Ron's heart almost burst; how could he ever think he could live another life without them? The Golden Trio couldn't function as two, it wasn't logical, it wasn't right.

He grinned brightly, "You aren't going to believe what happened to me. Saved the day, all by myself… think we're going to need to start calling _you _the sidekick, Harry."

"You were the chosen one this time, Ron," Harry replied smoothly, not able to keep the smile from his face.

Ron blanched, "None of that… but - but you guys will tell me if you're developing a code, right?"

Hermione and Harry looked at him oddly, their expressions irritatingly similar. Harry and Sirius fell into a conversation then, rapidly asking each other questions and Hermione watched peacefully, holding hands with Harry as the three of them started towards the exit.

Ron frowned, "Guys - guys there's no code, right? Guys!"

He ran to catch up with them, throwing an arm around Hermione, "Let's get a drink and we'll explain everything. It all starts with a great, massive statue of me in the Ministry which to be fair is a bloody fantastic idea."

* * *

A/N: That's a wrap! Thanks for reading, everyone.

My sincerest thanks to everyone to reviewed, followed and favourited this story. I've thoroughly enjoyed writing it and tackling Ron as main character. To the guest reviewers I can't respond to personally, thanks again - I'm thrilled you enjoyed my characterisation of Ron.

I'll continue to upload one-shots now and again, but the next chaptered fics I'm working on are: 1. Ginny as the main character, in a 13 going on30 esque situation. It's similar to this in that Ginny can't remember the last few years of her life, but starkly different in that there is no alternate world or anything. Think it'll be DMGW which I don't really ship but want to attempt and HHr/RWLL on the side. The other one is a longer tackle at muggle explosive devices going off in Wizarding London and the investigation that ensues. If you're interested in either of those, feel free to follow me to stay tuned :)

Thanks again! Have a wonderful weekend.

CR.


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